


Arabian Night

by Raicheru



Category: Bleach
Genre: And it was fun to write., But it's based on a crackish episode..., Episode: s14e287 Ichigo and the Magic Lamp, I don't usually write crack., M/M, crackish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-23
Updated: 2013-08-23
Packaged: 2017-12-24 08:42:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/937934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raicheru/pseuds/Raicheru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While having one the strangest dreams of his life, Ichigo gets a little distracted from his mission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arabian Night

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on FF dot net as part of my Tangerine collection.
> 
> I wanted to write something with Urahara and Ichigo for a long time but I didn't really have much inspiration. Then I saw one of the crack episodes that pop up every once in a while. If you're not fond of bizarre, unrelated humor, you probably won't like it. It's a side story that has nothing to do with the main plot. (But I have to say, when the 'Kiko Oh' turned into a tiny flaming parakeet and started pecking at Rukia's forehead, I nearly fell off my chair laughing. I don't know, the whole thing is just funny for me.) Anyway, I started with the beginning of the episode and then ran with it on my own.

Ichigo was seriously confused. First, he woke up in the middle of the desert. That by itself wasn't too strange given where he was at the moment. Outside of Las Noches, Hueco Mundo was nothing but sand. But while the surroundings weren't surprising, the clothes he was wearing completely threw him off. His shihakusho and zanpakuto were gone. In their place, he had some sort of Arabian styled tunic and pants coupled with a turban and scarf. There were various accessories too including a necklace, bracelets and a brooch that had dangling bits that kept jangling against his chest when he moved. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the looped lines of a tattoo wrapped around his left bicep.  
Where the hell had all of this come from? The black cat sitting at his side didn't seem to have any answers as it mewed innocently at him. That was odd too. He'd never seen Yoruichi play into the role of a cat so deeply before.

When Orihime, Chad and Uryu showed up for a bizarre midnight meeting, they were no help at all in figuring out what was going on. They were dressed the same way he was and they were acting so weird. But it all seemed normal to them and every time he mentioned it, they looked at him like he had some sort of head injury. All he wanted was. . . Well, he couldn't remember exactly what it was that he wanted. But it wasn't to sit around yapping all night. He had other things to worry about even if he didn't know what they were.

His irritation grew as they dragged him along on their outing. While walking the streets of the nearby city, they revealed that the were thieves out to steal a great treasure from the richest man in the country. And it wasn't long before they were looting his treasure room looking for some gem they'd never seen but apparently seemed to want.

"Hold it. Why does this thing look like Kon?" Ichigo had just pulled a brass lamp out of a huge chest that sat in the center of the room.

"Because this whole dream is filled with things you recognize," Uryu replied.

"Wait, wait, wait." Ichigo held up his hands in confusion. "Dream?"

"Well of course. Why else do you think this has been going so smoothly?" Just as he said that, lights flared in the room signaling that they'd been caught. Great. Not only were they thieves, they were incompetent thieves. In the great tradition of messed up dreams, nothing was going as planned. Not that he knew what the plan actually was. Ichigo was still trying to figure it out as he looked up to see four familiar figures silhouetted on an upper balcony. His eyes narrowed as he laid eyes on Urahara and his crew, all dressed in the same style of clothing as himself. Well, at least his sleeping subconscious was consistent if not terribly straightforward. Urahara flicked out his fan which was lined with feathers at the outer edges.

"Oh, it appears I've caught you all red handed. Now what shall I do with you?"

"How about wake me up from this crazy dream so I don't have to deal with any of this stupidity any more?" Ichigo asked dryly. Seriously. This was starting to get a little ridiculous. Who would show up next? Rukia as a freaking genie?

Urahara continued like he hadn't spoken. "May I ask what it is that you're looking for?"

Uryu stepped forward. "We're here for the Snow Crystal."

"Oh? And what makes you think I'll let you have it?"

"Uh, because it's for a good cause?" Orihime asked tentatively.

"Hmmmm." Urahara seemed to consider that for a moment. "I won't let you have it for free." His eyes glittered mischievously and Ichigo was suddenly nervous even though he wasn't sure why. Urahara's lip curled up in a small smirk. "But I might be willing to trade."

Trade? They didn't have anything to barter with and if this guy was as rich as everybody said, he already had everything he could ever want. Any why was Ichigo even thinking about it like it was an option? He should be trying to wake up so he could get on with his life. He was so busy being irritated that he didn't really notice that everybody was suddenly staring at him. 

"That will be satisfactory."

That snapped him out of his thoughts. What would be satisfactory? Ichigo whirled to look at his friends but they'd all stepped back away from him, leaving him standing by himself out in front. 

"What are you. . .oof." He was cut off as the rug beneath his feet yanked itself out from under him and he toppled to the ground. Before he could get back to his feet, it rolled itself up with him inside. "H-hey!" Ichigo's voice was muffled by the woven prison that now held him tight. "What the hell?" No matter how he struggled, his arms remained pressed against his torso, his whole body wrapped by the rug.

There were murmured voices and the sound of retreating footsteps. They were leaving him here? His thoughts raced as he tried to figure out why his friends would ever abandon him even if it was a dream. When the thought solidified, he froze. Wait just a damned minute.

He was the trade? His friends were giving him to Urahara in exchange for a sparkly piece of crap? "You bastards! Don't just leave me here."

"Don't worry, Chigo. We trust him. Remember that you do too." Orihime crouched down and gave Ichigo a comforting pat as she passed. He hardly felt it through the fabric of the carpet. Ichigo ignored her as he tried to get free. But after a moment, he felt himself being lifted and started getting a little disoriented.

"Put me down dammit!" he cried in frustration. But nobody seemed to be paying any attention to him. 

After being carried for a while, the rug was suddenly unfurled, rolling him out across the floor in an uncontrolled spin. His howl of surprise was strangely muffled in the dark space. Ichigo couldn't see anything as he came to rest on something soft. The air was heavy and thick with the exotic scent of some kind of incense and for some reason, there was sitar music playing mysteriously in the background. He felt his lids immediately grow heavy and it became hard to keep his eyes open. They gradually closed as consciousness slipped through his grasp.

. . . . . . .

When he woke the second time, he felt groggy and tired which was relatively normal. Good, maybe he'd left all that weirdness behind. But his eyes snapped open as he caught that same heavy scent again. Lamplight flickered in the room, making the shadows dance around him. He lay on a pile of cushions surrounded by gossamer curtains that fell from a ceiling so high, he couldn't see it in the darkness. It looked a lot like some sort of clichéd harem setting. 

Lifting himself up on his elbows, he took in the new change in his appearance. He still wore the necklace and bracelets and the tattoo remained coiled around his arm. His skin glistened in the lamplight and when he rubbed his fingertips along his chest, he felt the silken sheen of some sort of perfumed oil. Added to the heavy scent in the room, it made him a little lightheaded.

A glittering sparkle caught his eye and he saw a gemmed bracelet fastened around his left ankle. A line of sparkling beads trailed down over the top of his foot where they were attached to the golden ring on his second toe. As he contemplated that for a moment, he noticed something else. He wasn't wearing anything except for the jewelry. Fumbling in embarrassment, he snagged a small throw pillow and covered his lap. Where the hell were his clothes?

"Ah, I see you're awake." Urahara's voice came from the shadows.

"No, I'm not you moron! This is still some stupid dream that I can't find my way out of." Ichigo shifted on the pillows but there was nowhere for him to go. He growled low in his throat. "Why am I naked?"

"I should think that would be obvious." The curtains in front of Ichigo parted and Urahara stood in the opening. He was still wearing that silly striped turban that resembled his customary hat. "You're quite beautiful and the setting suits you." His eyes trailed down Ichigo's body and the redhead couldn't help but consider the picture he made right now. He was sprawled on a mound of luscious pillows, the flickering lamplight making his oiled skin glow. The adornments would only add to the image and make him seem more exotic. The intent gaze from the other man was starting to unnerve him. It was bordering on being a little worshipful and he wasn't sure what to think about that.

"Stop looking at me like that, you freak," he muttered, suddenly uncomfortable. He could feel heat flushing his face even as he tried to stop it.

"Oh, don't be coy. It is your dream after all. I'm only doing what you're subconscious is thinking." Urahara knelt at Ichigo's feet. "Hmmm. I had no idea really."

"W-what?" Ichigo stammered as he tried to back away while trying to keep the pillow from slipping out of his lap. Urahara reached out and stopped him with a firm grip on his right ankle. Ichigo fought the urge to kick him. "Wait." But the shopkeeper, or at least the dream version of him, didn't yank him closer like he thought he would. Instead, he flicked his fan shut and set it aside. Ichigo was speechless as the other man used both hands to start massaging his foot. He let out a low groan as Urahara dug his thumbs into the arch, his deft fingers smoothing over his oiled skin. Actually, it felt kind of nice.

"There. Is that so bad?" Urahara murmured as he continued his work. It was amazing how stimulation in one area could affect the rest of his body. How could a foot massage shoot straight to his groin like that?

"Uhn. . ." Ichigo was at a loss for words as those hands slid under his calf and dug into the muscles there. His head fell back on the pillows as the other man moved on to the other leg and repeated the same treatment.

"So tense. You worry too much."

"Hn. I've got a lot to worry about." Well, Ichigo couldn't remember what he was worried about but he knew there were a lot of things bothering him right now. The only thing that came to mind was his current position. But even that was quickly slipping away from him as it got harder to focus. "Those morons traded me to you like some kind of trinket." His voice was a low mumble as his legs turned to jelly under Urahara's ministrations. Ichigo frowned and tensed back up as he reached his thighs. Fingers slipped teasingly under the edge of the pillow and the redhead shook his head. "Don't. . ."

"I'm not doing anything that you don't already want."

"But I don't. . ." Ichigo was pushed back into the pillows as Urahara was suddenly hovering above him. His eyes widened a little at the sudden closeness. "Um."

"Don't you?" Urahara’s warm breath brushed against Ichigo's cheek and the redhead shuddered.

"Don't I what?" Ichigo was having trouble remembering the question.

"Don't you want this?"

Did he? Ichigo felt the pillow being pulled from his lap and made no move to stop it. The sensation of the soft fabric sliding over his partially erect length made his breath catch. Urahara moved back again and settled between Ichigo's knees, his fingers trailing down the redhead's chest as he went. His thumbs swirled around the nubs of his nipples briefly, drawing a groan from him. Every touch seemed to suddenly feel much more intense and he let himself fall back again. Firm hands slid over his abdomen and down his sides before cupping his hips almost gently.

Ichigo was more than just half hard now and the tight pressure of it was making him start to pant a little. When had this turned from some weird twist on his memories to something so much more heated? He didn't remember ever consciously thinking about his mentor in this context before. But as he felt Urahara's tongue flick out to touch the tip of his erection, he could barely remember his own name.

"Ah. . ." Ichigo gasped. The other man's hands were kneading his hips as the brief touch came again.

"What was that? I didn't quite hear you." Urahara's voice was low with just a hint of amusement at the edge.

"A-again. . ." Ichigo wasn't sure where that came from but he was beyond arguing with himself at the moment. The other man obliged and slid his hands down to curl around the curves of Ichigo's ass. He squeezed and kneaded, his fingers still slick with the sweet oil. But it wasn't until he took Ichigo's tip into his mouth and sucked gently that the redhead really lost himself. A garbled string of sounds escaped him as he arched his back, his arms thrown loosely over his head.

Ichigo's shoulders sank into the soft pile of pillows as Urahara continued to tease him with his mouth. He released the younger man's rear with one last squeeze so he could bring his hands around to fondle him and rub the inside of his thigh. Why the hell was this happening? Not that Ichigo was really in the mood to complain but this was something that had never, ever crossed his mind in real life. At the moment, it felt so natural that he couldn't imagine it being any other way. A gentle tug on his balls made his breath catch again. Warmth engulfed his entire length as Urahara took him in further and swirled his tongue along the vein underneath.

"Hnn." Ichigo shifted restlessly as the sensations from his core rippled along his body. The cloying incense surrounded him like a warm blanket and sitars grew louder, their tune nearly drowning out the sudden pounding of his heart. A slick finger entered him and another pulse of arousal sent a shock up his spine. It was almost too much as it pumped in and out of him in time to Urahara's sucking pulls on his shaft. Ichigo let out a soft cry and threw his head back. He felt like he might explode right there. But the other man slowed his pace before he came. Ichigo growled and tried to buck his hips, suddenly impatient. But it appeared that there was no rushing this as his wordless complaint got no response.

A long, hard suck and an added finger made Ichigo's vision go white for a moment. But still, climax was tantalizingly out of reach. How long could he go on like this? He was almost going out of his mind as it was. When Urahara began to hum deep in his throat, it only made things worse. Or better. Ichigo didn't have the brain power to decide right now. He felt the stretch of a third finger and more tugging on his scrotum. A thin whine filled the air as it all became difficult to take. It took him a little while to realize that it was his own voice he was hearing. When the intrusion pushed in further than it seemed possible to go, it hit something inside him that tipped the balance.

Ichigo let out a long, ragged cry. Too much. It was all too much. Urahara continued to suck even as pleasure ripped through him in overwhelming waves. It was building almost to the point of pain and he tossed his head from side to side, his voice trailing off to soft whimpers. There was a brief lull that brought a sense of relief as well as disappointment before Urahara sped up again suddenly. 

Ichigo came again with low grunt, long past the capacity for speech of any kind. When he thought he'd finally pass out from the pleasure, one last quivering shudder shook his whole body. And then he went so limp that he thought he dribble right off the pillows and onto the floor.

Holy shit. His fuzzy thoughts were so smudged right now he didn't even know where he was for a few minutes. Ichigo was having trouble keeping his eyes open and found himself blinking lazily in the aftermath. He felt the gentle press of lips against his forehead and he sighed softly. Somehow the gesture seemed more intimate than what had been happening only moments before and he made a soft sound in his throat. 

The fragrant warmth of the incense wrapped around him again and he turned onto his side, curling up on the cushions like a content cat. This was nice even if he couldn't remember how he'd gotten here. He was rapidly forgetting everything beyond the loose, satisfied feeling that was spreading through him. All of his recent memories seemed to be a bit fuzzy. The harder he reached for them, the thinner they got. Giving up on figuring out what was going on, he let himself drift off into the most restful sleep he'd had in a long time.


End file.
